


The real HBIC

by poppetawoppet



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-12
Updated: 2009-08-12
Packaged: 2017-10-12 02:37:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppetawoppet/pseuds/poppetawoppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's three years after AI, and Kris and Adam deal with the consequences of terminal illness, but not in the way you think</p>
    </blockquote>





	The real HBIC

**Author's Note:**

> It's three years after AI, and Kris and Adam deal with the consequences of terminal illness, but not in the way you think

"I'm dying Adam."

Adam has had this conversation several times in the last six months, knows more about metastasizing and malignancy than he should. Words like inoperable had become an every day part of his vocabulary. Every day he was on the phone searching for some solution, for some way to make those words disappear.

"Not today, though, right?"

"The doctors," coughing, "the doctors say it won't be much longer. I want  to see you."

Adam froze. He can't. Ever since the first phone call, he couldn't  take the thought of seeing his best friend like that. But if there wasn't much time, he had to, no matter what.

"I guess now I get to see your shiny head, huh?"

"Yeah. Please come soon."

Adam nodded to himself. He looked around his house, empty now, still trashed from the endless weeks of parties, people grinding to an anonymous beat as he tried to drown his sorrow in sex and alcohol. None of his real friends came anymore. Alisan had given him a long suffering look and told him if he wanted to kill himself then he was welcome to it. But it was the only way he could deal with it. If grief did come in stages he was still angry, still denying it despite the expert opinions of no less than 15 oncologists. He picked up the phone, juggled it in his hand as he dug around for a bottle. Might  as well get an early start. He flipped through the numbers, too depressed even to party with strangers tonight. He drank in long deep swallows, the burn only masking the pain in his heart. Then he saw a familiar number, grinned a little. _Well, might as well, since Ive burned all my other bridges...._

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, except he was on his third bottle of vodka, and his doorbell rang and he answered the door. He smiled at the familiar face. 

"Well, its been a long time, baby, how are you?"

"You're drunk."

"Yep."

"And this place is a mess."

"Yep."

"I thought you were going to the hospital tomorrow."

"Yep."

"And you really think going hung over is the way to do it?"

"I've been hungover for the last year. Everyone knows that."

"You moron. Your best friend is dying and you are going hungover. Good job. C'mon, let's get you cleaned up for tomorrow."

Adam smiled, his heart beating a little faster. It helped to be taken care of by someone who had loved you at some point in their life, by someone you loved too. He couldn't say much, words were pointless now. Adam wasn't ashamed of himself. Ever. But now, with one of the loves of his life tucking him into bed with a glass of water, gently kissing his forehead, Adam began to wonder. Had he wasted too much time? Had he wasted opportunities? Sure he had, but every closed door was just an excuse to go find an open one. But the door in front of him now, he wanted to take a hammer and knock it down, but it was made of malignancy and not even the most volatile cocktail could make the lock open.  
*

They drove to the hospital in silence, silence being their whole conversation for the last year, ever since Adam had decided to start dealing with his pain with parties and booze, ignoring everything that really mattered. Adam stared out the window trying to think of what to say. Phone conversations were easy. Phone conversations he could hide his face, cover up the sobs with laughter, could smash a vase into the wall and pretend he was washing dishes (although he had a dishwasher for that and both of them knew it.) But he had promised, so he had to try.

Walking down the hall to the room was the worst. Seeing all the patients wasted and bald, smiling, crying, their families, the desperation on their faces made Adam slow with every step. But the hand on his back pushing him forward kept him going, its familiar warmth both comforting and frightening. Adam had refused to lean on anyone in the last few months, and now...

"Here we are."

Adam nodded. "Guess you're going to make me go in by myself."

"For now. I'll be in in five, okay?"

Adam let out a breath, opened the door. The machines and tubes were everywhere, and there was no color except for the riot of pictures and cards pasted to the walls.

"Your hair is terrible. I'm going to have to call my girl for you aren't I?"

Allison grinned at him. "I don't know. Bald is beautiful."

*

The drive home was quiet. Kris hadn't said much to him directly at the hospital, had poked at Alli until she was laughing so hard the nurses came in and threatened to kick them out. They had calmed down then, making plans for a barbecue later, a birthday party for Kris, a reunion tour. None of which could ever happen. He leaned his head against the window, desperately craving a drink, knowing Kris had probably hidden everything he had at the house, knowing that tomorrow he was going back, going to see his girl again. Why had he waited so long?

"When was the last time a maid was in here?"

Adam stared at his living room, shrugged. "Don't know. Guess I should have someone come out."

"Guess so. Adam..."

He stared into those brown eyes for a long time, the last year disappearing with a crooked grin and a pair of crinkled eyes. Adam tried to form some coherent thought, some way to say he was sorry for being such an asshole. He remembered clearly the last time Kris had been here, remembered how it had all started to spiral.

 _  
"Jesus, Adam, it's two o'clock in the afternoon!"_

"Don't care."

"Yeah, I get that a lot from you recently."

"Oh,really? Well, Mr. Strong and Silent what am I supposed to do? She's dying and I can't watch it happen. If I don' t care maybe it will hurt less."'

"Maybe you're being an idiot and you need to get a grip and realize she needs you. I need you."

"I don't need anyone."

"Ok. Fine."

His first phone call after the door had shut in his face had been Brad, who had turned down rebound sex, but was totally up for a party.

The party was over now. Kris was still staring at him, and Adam wanted to say so much, but could only sit, his face in his hands.

"I'm such a fucking idiot."

"Yeah, I know. But you came today, and that matters. You'll come every day, every day until."

Kris voice broke off, and Adam's breath hitched. "Until it's over."

Kris nodded, sat. He put an arm around Adam, the strangeness of its familiarity finally breaking him. For the first time since Alli had sat him down and told him she had an inoperable brain tumor, he finally grieved.  
   
Kris held him tight, murmuring, rubbing his back. He looked up once the worst had passed,saw the pain in his heart mirrored on Kris's face. He closed his eyes as Kris kissed them, gently caressing his face, whispering comfort.

"Kris..."

"Shhh. Not now. Just let me stay. Please. I can't do this alone anymore."

Adam nodded, followed Kris back to the bedroom that had once been theirs, folded him into  his arms, remembering how easily it had come, the fit still perfect, falling into oblivion.

*

"So, I'm leaving here in three days."

"Alli."

"Nope. I'm an adult, I can make my own decisions. Plus I haven't had a sleepover in years, so I thought maybe I could come stay with you guys. I mean if that's cool."

Adam looked at Kris, "Alli, we're not, I mean--"

"Oh, you're totally back together. You just haven't admitted it yet. I mean I broke you up, so it's only fitting I get you back together, right?"

"Alli," Kris sighed. "I mean, I love you."

"Nope. I refuse to believe otherwise. Now go talk it out and then you can come back tomorrow and tell me I'm right."

That's how Adam found himself sitting in a private lounge awkwardly discussing the weather with the love of his life. Last night had been perfect. This morning, waking up to find Kris making breakfast, his particularly foul-well, for Kris- comments on the state of Adam's kitchen, had been a revelation.

"Kris."

"What?"

"It's sunny practically every day here."

"I know."

"Why don't we just admit Alli is right and get the hell out of here?"

"Is she?"

Adam stopped for a moment, afraid that Kris had moved on, that he was only there because of Alli, that he was going to leave again as soon as it was over.

"I hope so," he whispered.

"Me too."

Adam looked up, smiled. "Really?"

"Well, you admitted to fucking up. Well so did I. I shouldn't have left you to fend for yourself. You were never good at that anyway. But I was too damn stubborn."

"We both were. And then the party became my life."

"So I saw on TMZ"

"Asshole."

"Idiot."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

Adam found hiimself with Kris in his arms, kissing every inch of his face, laughing and crying, muttering that this couch was way too fragile for what he really wanted to do, laughing again as he realized he could still make Kris blush, even after all this time.

"Guess Alli was right."

"When hasn't she been, Adam?"

"So, I guess we better get the house ready for when she comes then."

*

Allison had always had a room at the house, but it took both days to get it ready for her, for the doctors to give it approval. That first night, the three of them sat in her bed, watching cheesy movies and laughing. If not for the emergency call button and Allison's coughing fits, it would be just like old times. For a time it was as if she got better, a light in her eyes, and new strength to her voice. But three weeks in she had her first seizure.

Adam and Kris had secretly gotten drunk that night, collapsing in their room, holding on so tightly that they should have been one person in the morning. Even Alli was subdued, her usual jokes gone away, and Adam wanted to escape, wanted it to be done, to finally be over, but he had already run away once and it hadn't worked. So that was not an option.

It was that morning Alli brought up the wedding.

"When are you two finally going to seal the deal? I mean, I know Kris totally asked you. I mean he asked everyone's permission for crying out loud."

Adam and Kris shrugged.

"I was promised I was going to be your maid of honor. So does tomorrow sound good?"

Adam stared wide eyed at Kris, who nodded slowly. "Okay, Alli, but it won't be much.

"That's okay Adam, I think it might be better than you think."

That's how Adam found himself standing with Kris in his backyard, a surprisingly large group of people gathered, Allison in a bright fuschia dress, flowers everywhere. Trust Alli to organize a wedding behind their backs and from her sickbed. Dancing with her that night, he held her thin frame close, both of them a complete mess. "Thanks Alli."

"No problem. too bad you can't come to mine."

"Sokay. Would have had to kill him, so maybe its better."

Their laughter was watery. That night, as of late, the sex was desperate, fast, hard. Adam would lay awake with Kris, listening for any noise, breathing softly, his soul weighed down with guilt that he was so happy when the world was ending around him  
*

"I'm dying Adam."

"I know, Alli."

"I'm glad you're happy, you know?"

"I know."

"Good. Will you sing me a song? After its over? Both of you?"

"Sure. You know we'd do anything for you Alli."

"Good. That's because I am the HBIC."

"You always were."

*

 _You'll remember me when the west wind moves  
Upon the fields of barley  
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky  
As we walk in fields of gold  
So she took her love for to gaze awhile  
Upon the fields of barley  
In his arms she fell as her hair came down  
Among the fields of gold_

Will you stay with me, will you be my love  
Among the fields of barley?  
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky  
As we lie in fields of gold  
See the west wind move like a lover so  
Upon the fields of barley  
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth  
Among the fields of gold

I never made promises lightly  
And there have been some that I've broken  
But I swear in the days still left  
We'll walk in fields of gold  
We'll walk in fields of gold

Many years have passed since those summer days  
Among the fields of barley  
See the children run as the sun goes down  
Among the fields of gold  
You'll remember me when the west wind moves  
Upon the fields of barley  
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky  
When we walked in fields of gold  
When we walked in fields of gold  
When we walked in fields of gold

Adam laced his hand through Kris's, walking away from the stage dazedly , the rest of the service passing by in a blur of colors and tears. The letter was on the table when they got home, Allison's familiar scrawl on the envelope: "For my Brothers"

Kris opened it, reading aloud in a broken voice:

"Three things to Remember:

1\. If you ever hurt each other again I will haunt you for the rest of your life

2\. You better have kids, cause you would be the best dads ever.

3\. Don't you ever dare give up. Love you."

 

Kris looked up, a foolish grin on his face. "She would haunt us."

Adam nodded, unreasonably inappropriate laughter bubbling up. "We're totally gonna have kids right?"

"Totally. Allison sounds like an excellent name for a girl."

"And she's gonna be fierce."

"The, ah, what is it? The HBIC."

Adam snorted. "That's right."

Later, when someone asked him how he was doing, how he was handling it all, Adam would shrug, look at Kris, smile.

"I'm living."  
 


End file.
